


of frisbees and class notes

by pokedexed



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AMAZING art done by suitfer, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, frisbees, seriously ive been blessed they're so talented
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-30 22:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12663036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pokedexed/pseuds/pokedexed
Summary: All Sam wanted to do was get ahead on his math homework.Fate had other ideas.





	of frisbees and class notes

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the Sam Wilson Big Bang!
> 
> I was blessed to work with the amazingly talented suitfer (@suitfer on tumblr) who created this amazing art for this fic!!! they were so nice to work with !! send them some love!!!!  
> you can see the amazing art here: http://suitfer.tumblr.com/post/167269344205/of-frisbees-and-class-notes-fic-by-tyrellelliots

“Wilson! do you have a copy of the notes from Hill’s lecture?” 

 

Sam looked up, startled by the sudden voice. Standing above him was his best friend / roommate, Scott Lang. Scott smiled down at him his trademark grin that made you think he was up to something (probably illegal). 

 

Sam squinted at him. “Weren't you in class? I swore you were sitting behind me.” He shuffled to the side to make room for Scott on the bench.

 

“So that's a yes?” Scott clapped him on the shoulder and flopped onto the bench next to him. 

 

Sam huffed, exasperated. “Fine, I'll copy them later today.” He pointed his index finger threateningly at Scott. “But you owe me, Lang.” 

 

Scott clasped his hands together, grinning. “You're a lifesaver, Sam.” 

 

“Tell me something I don't know,” Sam replied, absentmindedly doodling a bird in the corner of his paper. 

 

The pair sat in comfortable silence, the only noise being the occasional chirp of a bird ahead or a distressed college student rushing by. 

 

“Wanna grab dinner?” Scott asked a few moments later. “My treat. Y’know, for the notes.” He gestured to Sam’s lap. 

 

“Sounds good to me, Scott. Where did you have in-” 

 

Sam’s sentence was interrupted by a harsh whistling sound followed by a loud “LOOK OUT!” Scott yelped and rolled off the bench. Sam, however, was not so lucky. A blur of blue and white rushed past him, and Sam felt a sharp pain as something came into contact with the side of his head. He let out a yell, his notebook falling off his lap and onto the grass in front of him. His hand whipped up to cover the side of his face. When he retracted his fingers, he was relieved to see there was no blood on his fingertips. Unfortunately, the searing pain on the side of his head still remained. 

 

“Holy shit,” Scott breathed out, clutching his chest. “What  _ was  _ that?” Sam looked to his left, where a circular piece of plastic was nestled on the ground, the grass around it flattened. Sam wandered over and scooped it up, holding it close to his face. 

 

“Just a frisbee!” he called over his shoulder to Scott, who was still looking slightly dazed from where he was seated in the grass. Scott gave Sam a weary thumbs up, before collapsing flat on his back in the grass. He let out a long groan. Sam made a mental note that Scott was quite jumpy. 

 

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, are you okay?” A voice Sam did not recognize reached his ears. It was a man’s voice. A quite nice voice, actually. Sam turned, eyebrow raised. 

 

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just be a bit more careful-” he stopped mid-sentence. 

 

Now, Sam wasn't one to toss around this word lightly, but the man currently jogging towards him was  _ pretty.  _ Not handsome or cute, pretty. The pretty stranger reached Sam, who was still locked in place. 

 

“It didn't hit you, did it?” he asked, concern etched across his face. 

 

_ Your eyes are so pretty,  _ Sam thought about saying. He was being honest; the man’s eyes were a wonderful shade of blue. 

 

“Yeah, it did,” was what he actually said. He balked at the man’s horrified expression. “Just barely, though,” he quickly tacked on. “Really, I'm okay.” He awkwardly held out the frisbee to the stranger. “This is yours, I assume?” The man nodded and gingerly took it from Sam. 

 

“Glad to hear your okay,” the stranger said, running his hand through his perfect blonde hair and somehow making it look even better. Sam nodded, his face still feeling hot. He tugged at the sleeve of his Islanders’ sweatshirt self-consciously. 

 

“Can I at least check?” Steve asked, folding his hands in front of him. Sam nodded, tipping his head towards Steve. Steve’s fingers ghosted over the side of Sam’s head. He was frowning. 

 

“There’s no blood,” Steve said, “but you do have a bump forming. Probably not a concussion, but it wouldn’t hurt to get it checked out.” 

 

“Steve!” came a woman’s voice. The blond man (Steve?) turned around to face the voice. 

 

“Yeah, Nat?” he called back. 

 

“Stop flirting and let’s get back to the game!” Another voice, a man’s. Steve waved them off, a slight red tinge forming on his cheeks. 

 

_ Flirting?  _ Sam mouthed to himself. His gazed flicked back up to Steve’s, who looked sheepish. 

 

“My friends.” Steve gestured in the general directions of the voices. “They take frisbee golf  _ way  _ too seriously.” Sam chuckled at that, and Steve looked pleased with himself. “I’m Steve,” he continued, holding out his hand.

 

Sam shook it. Steve’s hand was warm. “Sam.” 

 

“Well, Sam,” Steve said, his hand moving to his pocket. He withdrew a small notebook. He opened it, scribbled something down, and tore the page out. He handed the paper to Sam. “How about we get coffee sometime? I feel like I owe you, for, you know…” He gestured to the frisbee, and then to Sam himself. 

 

“I would love that.” Sam felt himself grinning. “Does tomorrow work-” 

 

“SAM!” Scott was suddenly at Sam’s side, still looking frazzled. His gaze immediately locked on Steve. “You,” Scott breathed out, pointing a finger at Steve. “You hit Sam! With your frisbee!” Steve looked from Scott to Sam, and back to Scott. 

 

Uh,” was all he could manage. 

 

“Scott,” Sam said, facing his roommate. “I’m fine. It was an accident. Steve was very courteous about it.” Scott’s eyes narrowed. He frowned at Steve for a few seconds, before sighing. 

 

“Okay, Sam,” Scott said, lowering his hand. “Sorry for lashing out,” he mumbled to Steve. “See you back at the dorm, Sam.” He patted Sam’s shoulder and jogged off. 

 

“Roommate,” Sam said, turning back to face Steve. “He’s a bit of a drama queen.” 

 

Steve nodded. “What was it you were saying earlier? Before your roommate, to put it lightly, barged in?” 

 

“Oh.” Sam felt his face heat up again. “I was gonna say, does tomorrow work? For coffee, I mean.” He rubbed the back of his neck. He ducked his head toeing the grass with his shoe. 

 

Steve grinned. “I think it does.” 

**Author's Note:**

> you can also find me on tumblr @tyrellelliots


End file.
